Donate coins to Prose.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Prose in portal Prose

Prose Challenge #67

Afternoon, Prosers,

It’s week sixty-seven of the Prose Challenge of the Week, and given the changes we have made to the challenge stream, this week will be the last post we make to announce them in post form. We have the functionality to choose the winners digitally, notify them immediately, and transfer the coins into their Prose Wallets automatically.

As mentioned in our post, “Let’s talk about Prose,” these challenges will now be pay-to-enter for the time being. It’s because of this that we are renaming them simply, “Prose Challenge.” They will run until the maximum number of entries have been reached so we can use the entry fees to pay each winner.

Let’s have a look at this week’s prompt:

ProseChallenge #67: Write a poem about grief. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for 24 consecutive hours. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.

Back to week sixty-six. The winner of the “life lessons” challenge is, @starryEYES with their piece, Learning to the song of the beeps.

Congratulations! You have just won $100, and your post will remain at the top of our Spotlight feed for the next day. We will be in touch with you shortly to execute payment.

From this point forward, the winners of the Prose Challenge will get a notification and the coins will automatically transfer to your Prose Wallet within 24 hours of winning the challenge. If you don’t get the coins within that period, give us a shout.

To keep tabs on the challenge winners of all challenges, check out the challenge archives. https://theprose.com/challenges/archive-month

As you may recall, last week, we announced a sponsored challenge in collaboration with publishing giant, Simon & Schuster. Here is the link, just in case you haven’t stumbled across it yet! https://theprose.com/challenge/5367

If you haven’t entered any of our awesome challenges yet, why not? Check out some of them here: https://theprose.com/challenges

And as always, remember to spread the word(s).

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.

7
4
6
Juice
105 reads
Donate coins to Prose.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Prose in portal Prose
Prose Challenge #67
Afternoon, Prosers,

It’s week sixty-seven of the Prose Challenge of the Week, and given the changes we have made to the challenge stream, this week will be the last post we make to announce them in post form. We have the functionality to choose the winners digitally, notify them immediately, and transfer the coins into their Prose Wallets automatically.

As mentioned in our post, “Let’s talk about Prose,” these challenges will now be pay-to-enter for the time being. It’s because of this that we are renaming them simply, “Prose Challenge.” They will run until the maximum number of entries have been reached so we can use the entry fees to pay each winner.

Let’s have a look at this week’s prompt:

ProseChallenge #67: Write a poem about grief. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for 24 consecutive hours. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.

Back to week sixty-six. The winner of the “life lessons” challenge is, @starryEYES with their piece, Learning to the song of the beeps.

Congratulations! You have just won $100, and your post will remain at the top of our Spotlight feed for the next day. We will be in touch with you shortly to execute payment.

From this point forward, the winners of the Prose Challenge will get a notification and the coins will automatically transfer to your Prose Wallet within 24 hours of winning the challenge. If you don’t get the coins within that period, give us a shout.

To keep tabs on the challenge winners of all challenges, check out the challenge archives. https://theprose.com/challenges/archive-month

As you may recall, last week, we announced a sponsored challenge in collaboration with publishing giant, Simon & Schuster. Here is the link, just in case you haven’t stumbled across it yet! https://theprose.com/challenge/5367

If you haven’t entered any of our awesome challenges yet, why not? Check out some of them here: https://theprose.com/challenges

And as always, remember to spread the word(s).

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.
#nonfiction  #prosechallenge  #PC  #Itslit  #getlit 
7
4
6
Juice
105 reads
Load 6 Comments
Login to post comments.
Advertisement  (turn off)
Donate coins to Prose.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Prose in portal Prose

Let's Talk Prose

Good morning, Prosers.

It’s been quite the week, hasn’t it?

The last seven (ish) days has been a hive of activity here behind the Prose screens. We overhauled the Challenge Stream and we weren’t prepared for some of the concerns you guys laid across our digital desks.

We tried to answer each one of your concerns, but thought it best, now the dust has settled, to write something to each and every one of you.

Over a year ago, we took a vow of transparency and this is one of those times where we feel full transparency is needed.

There are only 4 of us on the team, and two of us have spent a long time in the past 7 days responding to each and every concern of yours, whilst working part-time on all of our Prose duties, and part-time on the PoetsIN duties.

Some of the complaints we received were misconceptions of the team and the company ethos that we have worked so hard at. So, this is us, setting the record straight. We are going to outline the concerns and comments, and put this to bed so we can continue improving Prose.

1) Default minimum word count.

This is set by default at 15. We will not be changing this any time soon. Why? Because when we allowed full flexibility, with no restriction there, our feeds were full with one word challenges. “Sorrow in one word.” “Death in one word.” Not only was this clogging the streams; we were also getting complaints about it. So we found a happy medium. With tens of thousands of users here, we had a couple of complaints about this. Not enough complaints that would make us re-think our stance.

2) Why did we charge for last week’s challenge of the week?

The first week’s charge for the challenge was to test the feature. We can test on our beta server, but know from experience that the second we unleash it on you guys, if there is a bug that we have missed, you will find it within seconds and we can fix it just as quickly.

3) Will we charge for future challenges?

Short answer, yes. Why? We’ll come back to this shortly.

4) What about those that do not have coins?

Those who do not have coins can either, a) head to the website and buy a coin package, b) become a partner and sell books/shorts/chapters, or c) write exceptional pieces that your Proser peers will juice you for. If neither a, b, or c apply to you, sit out the challenge and find one that doesn’t cost to enter.

5) Are we falling foul of “corruption to profit?” 

No. We are most certainly not. We are four people, managing a community tens of thousands larger than our foursome. We work tirelessly on this platform because we love it. This change wasn’t about profit, whatsoever. We’re humble, realistic, and realise that without charging for challenges, and taking a small cut from book sales etc, Prose won’t continue this way.

The above were the main concerns, and comments from people, said in a multitude of ways. All handled in a professional way, sometimes to-the-point, but never abrasive or rude. We are human after all and we’re damn proud of what we have achieved with such a small team and an equally small budget.

Think of how you discovered us. Was that through a large ad campaign? Nope, because we do not do that. We have grown this community organically, by spending time reaching out to people via social media and getting listed on some cool websites, that’s really it in a nutshell. Millions of man-hours go into this and we get paid less than most for the hours we put in.

We have made a tough decision. For the foreseeable, we will be charging for the Challenge of the Week. 50 cents. That’s all. There are challenges out there on the interwebs that charge a shed-load more for entering a challenge. We aren’t charging 50c to make a profit, we are charging 50c to put food on the table.

Over the past 67 weeks, we have given away $6700 in Challenge of the Week funds and have used our funding to pay for it. We haven’t asked you for a cent. The second we do, we have people asking why this “forum” can’t be free. Up until now, we have run Prose from a pool of money from generous investors who believe in what we do as much as we do. We haven’t yet made enough from Prose as a business to be able to pay our bills and such like. 

Prose is still free to use. But, if you want $100, you’ll have to pay 50 cents for the chance. We do not make enough currently to be able to keep giving free money, as much as we’d love to. There are plenty of free-to-enter challenges set by your peers that you can enter.

The more you guys buy coins, spend coins on each other, supporting the words of this amazing community, the more likely we’ll be able to offer a free-to-enter Challenge of the Week again. If we do not make enough to pay ourselves and pay the server charges, there will be no paid or free challenges. Dramatic, maybe, but that is the truth.

This does not mean Prose is failing, it does not mean we are going to ‘shut up shop,’ far from it. It’s us making you aware that these changes, along with your cooperation, will ensure our longevity.

Not all of the comments were comments of concern, and we thank each and every one of you for your continued support and for choosing Prose as your home for words.

We are working hard to tip the scales to benefit the author, and we’ve done this so far by providing numerous ways for each of you to make money with your words, with your royalties far outweighing ours.

Tomorrow we have another exciting opportunity for all of you, too, which has been months in the making. But, in the meantime, let’s recap how you can make a living on Prose.

1) Become a Prose Partner. Head here: theprose.com/p/partner. If you are accepted, you can sell your words on Prose. These can be sold as a single poem or short story, or as a book. Books can be sold per chapter, or as a whole.

2) Get involved in the Prose community, like, comment, share, and write. Write like it’s the last thing you’ll ever write; if Prosers like it, they’ll juice you.

3) Create awesome paid challenges. Prosers can actually make money from doing this.

If you would like some marketing tips from the team here, let us know, we’ll create a book in the bookstore that can help serve as a guide with some very useful tips and tricks in there. As a side-note, due to limitations with our time, we will have to charge for this book. Every little helps us, help you.

We think that’s all for now; if you have any further questions or concerns, please message or email us privately, and bear with us while we respond.

Let’s all get back to being creative, shall we?

Until next time, long live Prose!

Prose.

42
22
65
Juice
463 reads
Donate coins to Prose.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Prose in portal Prose
Let's Talk Prose
Good morning, Prosers.

It’s been quite the week, hasn’t it?

The last seven (ish) days has been a hive of activity here behind the Prose screens. We overhauled the Challenge Stream and we weren’t prepared for some of the concerns you guys laid across our digital desks.

We tried to answer each one of your concerns, but thought it best, now the dust has settled, to write something to each and every one of you.

Over a year ago, we took a vow of transparency and this is one of those times where we feel full transparency is needed.

There are only 4 of us on the team, and two of us have spent a long time in the past 7 days responding to each and every concern of yours, whilst working part-time on all of our Prose duties, and part-time on the PoetsIN duties.

Some of the complaints we received were misconceptions of the team and the company ethos that we have worked so hard at. So, this is us, setting the record straight. We are going to outline the concerns and comments, and put this to bed so we can continue improving Prose.

1) Default minimum word count.
This is set by default at 15. We will not be changing this any time soon. Why? Because when we allowed full flexibility, with no restriction there, our feeds were full with one word challenges. “Sorrow in one word.” “Death in one word.” Not only was this clogging the streams; we were also getting complaints about it. So we found a happy medium. With tens of thousands of users here, we had a couple of complaints about this. Not enough complaints that would make us re-think our stance.

2) Why did we charge for last week’s challenge of the week?
The first week’s charge for the challenge was to test the feature. We can test on our beta server, but know from experience that the second we unleash it on you guys, if there is a bug that we have missed, you will find it within seconds and we can fix it just as quickly.

3) Will we charge for future challenges?
Short answer, yes. Why? We’ll come back to this shortly.

4) What about those that do not have coins?
Those who do not have coins can either, a) head to the website and buy a coin package, b) become a partner and sell books/shorts/chapters, or c) write exceptional pieces that your Proser peers will juice you for. If neither a, b, or c apply to you, sit out the challenge and find one that doesn’t cost to enter.

5) Are we falling foul of “corruption to profit?” 
No. We are most certainly not. We are four people, managing a community tens of thousands larger than our foursome. We work tirelessly on this platform because we love it. This change wasn’t about profit, whatsoever. We’re humble, realistic, and realise that without charging for challenges, and taking a small cut from book sales etc, Prose won’t continue this way.

The above were the main concerns, and comments from people, said in a multitude of ways. All handled in a professional way, sometimes to-the-point, but never abrasive or rude. We are human after all and we’re damn proud of what we have achieved with such a small team and an equally small budget.

Think of how you discovered us. Was that through a large ad campaign? Nope, because we do not do that. We have grown this community organically, by spending time reaching out to people via social media and getting listed on some cool websites, that’s really it in a nutshell. Millions of man-hours go into this and we get paid less than most for the hours we put in.

We have made a tough decision. For the foreseeable, we will be charging for the Challenge of the Week. 50 cents. That’s all. There are challenges out there on the interwebs that charge a shed-load more for entering a challenge. We aren’t charging 50c to make a profit, we are charging 50c to put food on the table.

Over the past 67 weeks, we have given away $6700 in Challenge of the Week funds and have used our funding to pay for it. We haven’t asked you for a cent. The second we do, we have people asking why this “forum” can’t be free. Up until now, we have run Prose from a pool of money from generous investors who believe in what we do as much as we do. We haven’t yet made enough from Prose as a business to be able to pay our bills and such like. 

Prose is still free to use. But, if you want $100, you’ll have to pay 50 cents for the chance. We do not make enough currently to be able to keep giving free money, as much as we’d love to. There are plenty of free-to-enter challenges set by your peers that you can enter.

The more you guys buy coins, spend coins on each other, supporting the words of this amazing community, the more likely we’ll be able to offer a free-to-enter Challenge of the Week again. If we do not make enough to pay ourselves and pay the server charges, there will be no paid or free challenges. Dramatic, maybe, but that is the truth.

This does not mean Prose is failing, it does not mean we are going to ‘shut up shop,’ far from it. It’s us making you aware that these changes, along with your cooperation, will ensure our longevity.

Not all of the comments were comments of concern, and we thank each and every one of you for your continued support and for choosing Prose as your home for words.

We are working hard to tip the scales to benefit the author, and we’ve done this so far by providing numerous ways for each of you to make money with your words, with your royalties far outweighing ours.

Tomorrow we have another exciting opportunity for all of you, too, which has been months in the making. But, in the meantime, let’s recap how you can make a living on Prose.

1) Become a Prose Partner. Head here: theprose.com/p/partner. If you are accepted, you can sell your words on Prose. These can be sold as a single poem or short story, or as a book. Books can be sold per chapter, or as a whole.

2) Get involved in the Prose community, like, comment, share, and write. Write like it’s the last thing you’ll ever write; if Prosers like it, they’ll juice you.

3) Create awesome paid challenges. Prosers can actually make money from doing this.

If you would like some marketing tips from the team here, let us know, we’ll create a book in the bookstore that can help serve as a guide with some very useful tips and tricks in there. As a side-note, due to limitations with our time, we will have to charge for this book. Every little helps us, help you.

We think that’s all for now; if you have any further questions or concerns, please message or email us privately, and bear with us while we respond.

Let’s all get back to being creative, shall we?

Until next time, long live Prose!

Prose.

#prose  #transparency  #Itslit  #getlit  #AdminPost 
42
22
65
Juice
463 reads
Load 65 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Prose.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Prose in portal Prose

Prose Challenge of the Week #66

Hello, Prosers,

We hope this challenge announcement finds you well and writing!

It’s week sixty-six of the Prose Challenge of the Week.

For the last week, you have been writing about infidelity, and man, did you deliver. Before we check out who the deserving winner and recipient of $100 is, let’s take a look at this week’s prompt:

CotW #66: Write about the biggest lesson life has taught you. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for 24 consecutive hours. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.

Now, back to the winner of week sixty-five.

We have read all of your entries, and have come to a decision. The winner of the Twisted Tale challenge is @Rumpleskag with their piece, But Is It Really Cheating?

Congratulations! You have just won $100. We’ll be in touch with you shortly.

In the meantime, you have one week to get your write on!

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.

22
6
8
Juice
521 reads
Donate coins to Prose.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Prose in portal Prose
Prose Challenge of the Week #66
Hello, Prosers,

We hope this challenge announcement finds you well and writing!

It’s week sixty-six of the Prose Challenge of the Week.

For the last week, you have been writing about infidelity, and man, did you deliver. Before we check out who the deserving winner and recipient of $100 is, let’s take a look at this week’s prompt:

CotW #66: Write about the biggest lesson life has taught you. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for 24 consecutive hours. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.

Now, back to the winner of week sixty-five.

We have read all of your entries, and have come to a decision. The winner of the Twisted Tale challenge is @Rumpleskag with their piece, But Is It Really Cheating?

Congratulations! You have just won $100. We’ll be in touch with you shortly.

In the meantime, you have one week to get your write on!

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.
#prosechallenge  #ProseChallengeoftheWeek  #CotW  #Itslit  #getlit 
22
6
8
Juice
521 reads
Load 8 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to JamesMByers.
Juice
Cancel
CotW #65: Write a story about infidelity. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for six straight days. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.
Written by JamesMByers

Amends ...

Her eyes, like embers blazing hot,

Emancipated me.

The prison of my married rot;

She came to set me free.

An ocean barred and held us bound,

Though miles, they mattered not.

The bonnie lass my heart had found

Secured a sacred spot.

We met in poesy swapping words;

Her husband was a star.

And I was in my cage as birds

Unfit to fly afar.

For many years, we both had stayed

In halls and walls; routine.

Amended edges, tattered; frayed-

A chopping guillotine.

However, life has hidden keys

And she was such a gift.

An open door, a welcome breeze

To give each wing a lift.

Permission bled to passion's plan

And over time, we fell.

The world of woman and of man

Has never heard the tale.

No Romeo and Juliet;

No cross of lover's debt-

My loving never sowed regret;

No worry or no fret.

The secret words of poetry

Exchanged became the way

We shared each other knowingly;

We kissed, caressed by day.

And though our lips would never touch,

The way we pleased the soul

Ensured my love for her as such-

We made each other whole.

Rekindled feelings blooming grand

Exonerated hope.

In written form, she took my hand

And helped me learn to cope.

Confessions never claimed the right-

Ability in rhyme.

Decisions plagued my heart at night-

I longed for us a time

To share the space of wedded bliss.

However, on the screen

Composed of all we had in this-

The way our love was seen.

So many letters we exchanged;

So many wonders sought.

And though at odds we were estranged,

Together love was wrought.

Compelled by something old as earth,

We clamored to the sun.

Repelled by gravity in worth,

To never be undone-

A husband and a wife to those

Who never read the truth.

But she and I, we gladly chose

The sanguine labeled proof-

And as forever she will be

My love that never ends-

What you call infidelity

I choose to call amends ...

37
12
50
Juice
328 reads
Donate coins to JamesMByers.
Juice
Cancel
CotW #65: Write a story about infidelity. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for six straight days. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.
Written by JamesMByers
Amends ...
Her eyes, like embers blazing hot,
Emancipated me.
The prison of my married rot;
She came to set me free.
An ocean barred and held us bound,
Though miles, they mattered not.
The bonnie lass my heart had found
Secured a sacred spot.
We met in poesy swapping words;
Her husband was a star.
And I was in my cage as birds
Unfit to fly afar.
For many years, we both had stayed
In halls and walls; routine.
Amended edges, tattered; frayed-
A chopping guillotine.
However, life has hidden keys
And she was such a gift.
An open door, a welcome breeze
To give each wing a lift.
Permission bled to passion's plan
And over time, we fell.
The world of woman and of man
Has never heard the tale.
No Romeo and Juliet;
No cross of lover's debt-
My loving never sowed regret;
No worry or no fret.
The secret words of poetry
Exchanged became the way
We shared each other knowingly;
We kissed, caressed by day.
And though our lips would never touch,
The way we pleased the soul
Ensured my love for her as such-
We made each other whole.
Rekindled feelings blooming grand
Exonerated hope.
In written form, she took my hand
And helped me learn to cope.
Confessions never claimed the right-
Ability in rhyme.
Decisions plagued my heart at night-
I longed for us a time
To share the space of wedded bliss.
However, on the screen
Composed of all we had in this-
The way our love was seen.
So many letters we exchanged;
So many wonders sought.
And though at odds we were estranged,
Together love was wrought.
Compelled by something old as earth,
We clamored to the sun.
Repelled by gravity in worth,
To never be undone-
A husband and a wife to those
Who never read the truth.
But she and I, we gladly chose
The sanguine labeled proof-
And as forever she will be
My love that never ends-
What you call infidelity
I choose to call amends ...




#romance  #poetry  #prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit 
37
12
50
Juice
328 reads
Load 50 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Sammielee46.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Sammielee46 in portal Poetry & Free Verse

just hurt

he said he was sorry that i was hurting

if only i could just ‘hurt’

it would be better than this agony i feel

if hurting is feeling like your insides

are disintegrating beneath your tatty skin -

if it feels like bile is burning my heart

causing calcification

emaciation

then, yes. i hurt.

he said he was sorry he made me hurt

if only he could see my sorrow,

- my body convulsing with pain

whilst i curl into the fetal position

making myself small

knowing i couldn’t ever make myself

as microscopic as he made me feel

and yet, this is only hurt.

he said he never meant to make me feel hurt

yet he doesn’t see the scars etched upon my soul

those sacred scribbles that salute the self-loathing

i once banished

but, i only hurt.

i am so hurt, i am muted

my voice stuck in my throat

not knowing whether my song will sing

or if it’ll come out in tormented screams

echoing through the stagnant air,

because since he stopped loving me, seeing me,

fuck, since he stopped being my oxygen

the air is stale and i wish i didn’t have to breathe it in.

but it’s just hurt.

if it’s only hurt

then why does every song i hear

weep alongside me?

if it’s only hurt,

why do i feel like the world

should stop spinning immediately

and let me off this plane

before i jump

before he lets me jump

and doesn’t catch me at the bottom?

if me crying tears of blood

red with the pain that i try to shed

but the pools never run dry, they’re plentiful.

if all of the above, is just hurt

give me the gun, i’ll pull the trigger myself.

i can’t imagine feeling any more hurt

than I do in this moment.

yet, i just hurt.

11
3
0
Juice
36 reads
Donate coins to Sammielee46.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Sammielee46 in portal Poetry & Free Verse
just hurt
he said he was sorry that i was hurting
if only i could just ‘hurt’
it would be better than this agony i feel
if hurting is feeling like your insides
are disintegrating beneath your tatty skin -
if it feels like bile is burning my heart
causing calcification
emaciation
then, yes. i hurt.

he said he was sorry he made me hurt
if only he could see my sorrow,
- my body convulsing with pain
whilst i curl into the fetal position
making myself small
knowing i couldn’t ever make myself
as microscopic as he made me feel
and yet, this is only hurt.

he said he never meant to make me feel hurt
yet he doesn’t see the scars etched upon my soul
those sacred scribbles that salute the self-loathing
i once banished
but, i only hurt.

i am so hurt, i am muted
my voice stuck in my throat
not knowing whether my song will sing
or if it’ll come out in tormented screams
echoing through the stagnant air,
because since he stopped loving me, seeing me,
fuck, since he stopped being my oxygen
the air is stale and i wish i didn’t have to breathe it in.
but it’s just hurt.

if it’s only hurt
then why does every song i hear
weep alongside me?
if it’s only hurt,
why do i feel like the world
should stop spinning immediately
and let me off this plane
before i jump
before he lets me jump
and doesn’t catch me at the bottom?
if me crying tears of blood
red with the pain that i try to shed
but the pools never run dry, they’re plentiful.
if all of the above, is just hurt
give me the gun, i’ll pull the trigger myself.
i can’t imagine feeling any more hurt
than I do in this moment.
yet, i just hurt.
#poetry  #amwriting  #Itslit  #getlit  #sneakpeek 
11
3
0
Juice
36 reads
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Prose.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Prose in portal Prose

Prose Challenge of the Week #64

Hello, Prosers,

We hope this challenge announcement finds you well and writing!

It’s week sixty-four of the Prose Challenge of the Week.

For the last week, you have been writing a twisted tale, and man, did you deliver. Before we check out who the deserving winner and recipient of $100 is, let’s take a look at this week’s prompt:

CotW #64: Write about the most hilarious thing you have ever witnessed. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for six straight days. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.

Now, back to the winner of week sixty-three.

We have read all of your entries, and have come to a decision. The winner of the Twisted Tale challenge is @jwelker76 with their piece, Until Morning.

Congratulations! You have just won $100. We’ll be in touch with you shortly.

In the meantime, you have one week to get your write on!

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.

21
6
13
Juice
626 reads
Donate coins to Prose.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Prose in portal Prose
Prose Challenge of the Week #64
Hello, Prosers,

We hope this challenge announcement finds you well and writing!

It’s week sixty-four of the Prose Challenge of the Week.

For the last week, you have been writing a twisted tale, and man, did you deliver. Before we check out who the deserving winner and recipient of $100 is, let’s take a look at this week’s prompt:

CotW #64: Write about the most hilarious thing you have ever witnessed. The most eloquent, elegant, entertaining entry, ascertained by Prose, earns $100 and stays atop the Spotlight shelf for six straight days. Feel free to invite friends, distant family, even strange acquaintances to play this challenge with you anonymously. Please use #ProseChallenge #itslit for sharing online.

Now, back to the winner of week sixty-three.

We have read all of your entries, and have come to a decision. The winner of the Twisted Tale challenge is @jwelker76 with their piece, Until Morning.

Congratulations! You have just won $100. We’ll be in touch with you shortly.

In the meantime, you have one week to get your write on!

Until next time, Prosers,

Prose.

#prosechallenge  #challengeoftheweek  #CotW  #Itslit  #getlit 
21
6
13
Juice
626 reads
Load 13 Comments
Login to post comments.
Advertisement  (turn off)
Donate coins to Sammielee46.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Sammielee46 in portal Poetry & Free Verse

something stupid

i did something stupid
the other day,

my pain was a knot

so i cut it free

i carved the pain

away and watched it bleed
it ran away

down my leg

and puddled upon the floor
claret

thick

dark

i could smell the metal
twang of a heart that

sung its sorrows

and cursed the hand that crushed it
i watched the nurse

with her thread stitch the skin
real tight

and wished it was a metaphor
for you repairing the heart
you broke in two

– multiplied by the power
of heartbreak

but once the wound was closed
my pain just wound tighter
than the cords used to knit together
the etches that wanted to sing
i did something stupid today,
i unwound the ties that held me together
and i sit watching them release the pressure
that's built up inside me
punishing myself

purging the sorrow

hoping that one day

not now, not tomorrow
the sadness will subside
the blood will have dried
each platelet will have cried
its last tear

i did something stupid the other day
i asked for help

i was scared

ill-prepared

but fear is something i

no longer flee

i did something right today
took the threaded-cotton away
drain the pain

setting me free...

32
5
13
Juice
310 reads
Donate coins to Sammielee46.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Sammielee46 in portal Poetry & Free Verse
something stupid
i did something stupid
the other day,
my pain was a knot
so i cut it free
i carved the pain
away and watched it bleed
it ran away
down my leg
and puddled upon the floor
claret
thick
dark
i could smell the metal
twang of a heart that
sung its sorrows
and cursed the hand that crushed it
i watched the nurse
with her thread stitch the skin
real tight
and wished it was a metaphor
for you repairing the heart
you broke in two
– multiplied by the power
of heartbreak
but once the wound was closed
my pain just wound tighter
than the cords used to knit together
the etches that wanted to sing
i did something stupid today,
i unwound the ties that held me together
and i sit watching them release the pressure
that's built up inside me
punishing myself
purging the sorrow
hoping that one day
not now, not tomorrow
the sadness will subside
the blood will have dried
each platelet will have cried
its last tear
i did something stupid the other day
i asked for help
i was scared
ill-prepared
but fear is something i
no longer flee
i did something right today
took the threaded-cotton away
drain the pain
setting me free...
#poetry  #Itslit  #getlit  #sneakpeek 
32
5
13
Juice
310 reads
Load 13 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Sammielee46.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Sammielee46 in portal Poetry & Free Verse

you without me

without you and me

there is no we

there's no us

no future, or

eternity

love is free

it's serenity

but it's not ours

it's yours

that's plain to see

gravity

brought me

to you

under skies of blue

in a park with a view

benches, birds

- squirrels too

but it was all a lie

to paper the cracks

formed within an inky sky

with the most oft phrase spoken

not i love you,

but goodbye

smiles

reaching the eyes

they stopped,

replaced by tears

sadness, sorrow

building fears

in the bowels of the weak

the weeds grew

the bluebells knew

that the nature to nuture

had expired

and they were tired

of fighting for life

amidst the weeds that overrun

their meadow

so, they bowed their heads

and wept with the willow

whose tears formed

a lake of loss

we don't drown together

i drown alone

with cement in my boots

and mourning in my heart

never to float on our love

i stay saturated by suffering

and won't ever surface again...

9
2
1
Juice
34 reads
Donate coins to Sammielee46.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Sammielee46 in portal Poetry & Free Verse
you without me
without you and me
there is no we
there's no us
no future, or
eternity

love is free
it's serenity
but it's not ours
it's yours
that's plain to see

gravity
brought me
to you
under skies of blue
in a park with a view
benches, birds
- squirrels too

but it was all a lie
to paper the cracks
formed within an inky sky
with the most oft phrase spoken
not i love you,
but goodbye

smiles
reaching the eyes
they stopped,
replaced by tears
sadness, sorrow
building fears
in the bowels of the weak

the weeds grew
the bluebells knew
that the nature to nuture
had expired
and they were tired
of fighting for life
amidst the weeds that overrun
their meadow
so, they bowed their heads
and wept with the willow
whose tears formed
a lake of loss

we don't drown together
i drown alone
with cement in my boots
and mourning in my heart
never to float on our love
i stay saturated by suffering
and won't ever surface again...
#poetry  #freeverse  #Itslit  #getlit  #sneekpeak 
9
2
1
Juice
34 reads
Load 1 Comment
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to JessicaJohnson.
Juice
Cancel
Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JessicaJohnson

The Rise Of Lucifer

The screams of the tortured and the damned are a constant chorus to her ears. She never flinches at the sound, but rather relishes each aching cry as she sits upon the throne of bones I helped build for her centuries ago. She is my Queen, and I serve her unquestionably. Who am I? I am of no significance, for this story isn't about me. This story is about her. I am about to recount for you a tale that she refers to as "The Rise," a tale she recounted to me herself ages ago. Behold, all who would hear it, the centuries old tale of The Rise of Lucifer!

      ____________________________________________________________

A Night On The Earthly Plane:

"You are absolutely glorious. Beauty incarnate! All the stars in the sky cannot compare to the light that radiates from your eyes." His words are silk to my wanting ears as we lay intertwined, skin on skin, in his bedchamber. I have spent the better part of my four weeks on the earthly plane in human form with this man, and, in these four weeks, he has won my heart. However, he knows not my true angelic form for I have kept it concealed at the instruction of the Lord. I was sent by the Lord, as were many of his angels, to Earth disguised in human form to appreciate and learn from and guide his latest creation: Man. And what a beautiful creation they are! In my arms, I hold a small piece of Heaven. He calls himself Nathaniel. And I have him call me Lucy. 

"I cannot imagine my world without you, my dearest. Must you truly leave on the morrow?" Nathaniel's breath tickles my forehead as his soft words penetrate through my many thoughts, his hand still stroking my carmine colored hair.

"I must, my love." My words sound slightly strained even to my ears. "I was sent here to learn from you and guide you. I must report back to my instructor with all I have accomplished here. But I will return to you. Always. You are my heart."

"And you cannot tell me where you are going, who this instructor is, or when you will return to me?" Nathaniel asks, a desperation in the echoes of his voice.

"You know I cannot. But, when I return to you, my love, I will return with answers." This reply always seems to satisfy Nathaniel's curiosity, if only temporarily. And temporarily is all I need. In the morning, I will go. But, tonight, I am still his.

A Return to Heaven:

"Lucifer!" The voice of the Lord echoes through the vast expanses of the Heavenly realm, calling me to his presence.

"Yes, my Lord." I position myself before him in a humble stance and await his review of all I have witnessed and learned on the earthly plane.

The Lord instructs, "In your time on Earth, you have favored one man over all of my many creations, sharing his home and his bed. Tell me of this man and what you have learned."

"My Lord," I address him, "in my time on the earthly plane, I witnessed many of your magnificent creations, but none of them as truly magnificent as Man. They are resplendent, intelligent beings with an inner core light that we would term a soul. Their inner light is of a dimmer quality than the light residing in us angels, and they are not immortal. But they are very similar to us nonetheless. The man I favored calls himself Nathaniel, and I love him, my Lord. He has opened my heart to a different type of love, a love beyond the type of love I hold for my sibling angels. I long to be his companion in life, my Lord."

"You would have me cast you out, no longer an angel, but a human, to live at his side?" the Lord inquires.

"I would, my Lord. And when my time on Earth was through, my soul would pass from that realm back into your arms. In the end, I will always be your creation, but I wish to spend a lifetime with this human." I pause, briefly, to recollect my thoughts. The Lord, all knowing, already knows of my secret, I am sure. But I wish to voice my miracle for his ears nonetheless. "From my time spent with Nathaniel, we have created a life that is germinating in my womb. A miracle, my Lord. I would build a human life and a family with this man."

"My lovely Lucifer, creating life is always a miracle. But you have much to learn, my angel. And I fear this next lesson shall be a difficult one." The Lord steps closer to my side before continuing. "My creation of Man, as you have witnessed, is similar to my creation of angels. However, they are also different. While all of my angels are inherently good, not all of Man hold these same characteristics and values. A side of Man you did not witness in your brief time on the earthly plane is a darker side of man coated with corruption. Greed. Wrath. Deception. Lust. These are all dark traits some humans possess. What I have never revealed to my angels is that some of my human creations do not return to me when their bodies perish. I have placed an everlasting soul in every human. Yet, some souls become so corrupted and weighted down with dark traits that when the soul is released from the body, it cannot ascend to the Heavens, but rather sinks into a dark, desolate wasteland."

"I do not understand, my Lord." I reply, confused as to the lesson my instructor is laying out before me.

"I know, my Lucifer. But you shall." At this, the Lord moves in front of me and raises one hand to place upon my forehead. "I will show you."

When the Lord's hand contacts with my forehead, my eyes no longer view him standing before me. Instead, I am back on Earth in Nathaniel's bedchamber. Disoriented, I slowly take in my surroundings until my eyes settle on Nathaniel in his bed. Yet, Nathaniel is not alone. At his side is a beautiful raven haired woman. He has his arms wrapped around her, whispering in her ear and holding her as he had held me. I can hear his words, faintly flowing and full of seduction, as he tells her, "You are absolutely beautiful. I cannot imagine my life without you..."

A Return To The Earthly Plane:

I do not understand. I love Nathaniel, and he loves me. Who is this woman? I am his everything. And he is my heart. Yet, I feel as if my heart is cracking. I feel as if my pieces are crumbling. What is this terrible feeling?! And then the Lord removes his hand, pulling me back into my current surroundings before he again speaks.

"My lovely Lucifer, I know you do not understand, but what you have experienced is deceit. You ask me to cast you out to be with a man who does not love you as you love him. And he will not be waiting for you when you return. I cannot do that, my angel. But you and the child you have created are forever welcome here within the Heavenly realm, regardless that he shall be part human. I know this is a difficult lesson to learn, and I shall give you time to process this information. I love you, my angel. Do not view this as a loss, but as a lesson." And with those words, the Lord removes himself from my side, leaving me alone in the vast Heavens to ruminate on these thoughts.

And I still do not understand. Alone and confused, I can fathom nothing. A lesson? How can this be a lesson?! I love Nathaniel. No. I cannot accept it. I will not accept it. I will return to Nathaniel, as promised. I will reveal myself, my true self, to him, and his love for me will be revived. And with these thoughts, and a crumbling heart, I plunge from the Heavens to Earth, appearing in a flash of light within Nathaniel's bedchamber. My landing rattles the walls of the cabin, startling both Nathaniel and the raven haired women from the bed. When they spot me, I watch them clamor to the farthest reaches of the room, clinging to each other in fear.

"Nathaniel, my love!" I address him, "I have returned." I stand before them with my carmine hair cascading around my flowing golden robes, and my wings slightly spread, glistening with their inner light. "Tell me, dearest, who is this woman that shares your bed?"

 I watch as a slow recognition spreads across Nathaniel's face, but I find no love radiating from his expression or his eyes. Rather, I see only fear and repulsion. "Lucy...?" Hearing my name from his lips spoken so questioningly and fearfully only furthers the cracks in my crumbling heart.

"Yes, my love." I take a step closer only to watch both Nathaniel and this woman shrink back farther in fear. "I have returned to you in my true form, with love in my heart and our child in my womb. I know this form is foreign to you, but our creator can change that. The Lord can make me human, and we can be together. But he doubts your love for me." I take another step closer, a slight pleading tone creeping into the edges of my voice. "If you would but prove your love to me by dismissing this woman and inviting me into your life, the Lord could cast me in human form and we could be a family."

"Lucy..." I hear Nathaniel whisper, the fear and repulsion still etched in his face, as his eyes keep moving from my face to my wings. "This cannot be..."

"It is, my love. And it can be." I take another step closer, longing only to touch him.

"No!" Nathaniel shouts, his outburst startling me. "Stay back! This cannot be! We cannot be together for I am to be wed to Cecilia." I watch him gaze upon the raven haired woman with adoration, before turning back to me. "She is my future."

I feel a catch in my throat and a moisture pooling in my eyes before it overflows, spilling over my cheeks. "But I am with your child," I hear myself say. "I love you, Nathaniel."

"I do not love you, Lucy." Nathaniel's words, cold and disgusted, are a dagger through my chest. "How could I love you? You aren't even human. Now, leave us to our life together and return to your own kind. We do not want you here."

The Changing:

My breath keeps catching as the moisture pours relentlessly from my eyes. What are these feelings?! I stare helplessly at Nathaniel and Cecilia, feeling broken and ashamed. My heart feels as if it has shattered. "You don't love me...." I hear myself repeating aloud, as if saying the words will relinquish some of the pain in my chest. In a response to my words and actions, Nathaniel only pulls Cecilia tighter in his arms.

I feel my world crumbling as I stand in Nathaniel's bedchamber. Something deeper and more vital than my own heart is breaking inside me. Yet, from the ruins, I can feel something new arising. A fire begins building in my chest, engulfing the pain, and replacing it with something darker. The moisture spilling from my eyes, tears I finally recognized them as, begin to slow. My entire body begins to shake. "How could he choose her over me?!" I think to myself. "How could her choose her over our child?!" Then a new emotion fills me, yet I can name it easily from my studies. Rage. It engulfs me as I watch Nathaniel and Cecilia cling to each other. And in the following moments, when the dark thoughts become overwhelming, I know my following actions will forever alter my fate.

I can feel the rage pooling in my chest and coursing through my body. It consumes me. I need to let it out. "No. No....no..." The words keep spilling from my lips, getting louder with each repeat. I watch as Nathaniel and Cecilia's fear turns into terror.

"Lucy. Stop this!" Nathaniel shouts, as Cecilia whimpers at his side. But it is too late. I can feel my skin rippling with heat. I am burning on the inside. And as my cries turn into screams that surpass the decibel capacity of the human ear, I watch as both Nathaniel and Cecilia sink to their knees, holding the sides of their heads as blood pours from their ears. Their cries only beckon my cries to increase in volume, and I relish in our shared agony as blood begins to pour from their eyes.

"LUCIFER! STOP THIS NOW!" The voice of the Lord is a loud echo in my mind. But he is also too late. I silence my screams and close the distance between myself and Nathaniel and Cecilia. Placing one hand on each of Nathaniel and Cecilia's heads, I sense their souls. And into their souls, I pour all of my rage. Their screams of pure agony do not phase me. I continue to pour all of my rage until the rippling heat from my skin can be seen behind their bloodied eyes. And I burn them alive, beginning with their souls, from the inside out until they are nothing but a pile of ashes on the floor, erasing them from existence.

Yet, still my rage pours! I cannot stop it. I pour it into everything around me, until the walls are engulfed in flames. And it is here, amidst the raging inferno, that I feel a pull on my wings, and the Lord's voice is again in my head asking, "Lucifer...What have you done??" I am then ripped through the burning roof of the cabin, through the skies, and through the very fabric of the earthly realm before being deposited in a broken heap in Heaven at the Lord's feet.

The Fall:

Crumpled at the Lord's feet, I do not even attempt to rise. I can hear other angels not far from the Lord's side, and I imagine what a horrific sight I must be to them, bloodstained and soot covered on the ground. But it hardly matters. As I lay there in a crumpled heap, I realize that I no longer rage. Yet, I don't feel any remorse or shame for my actions either. I feel no love or affection for those around me. I feel hollowed out. I feel nothing.

"Lucifer. Rise!" the Lord commands. I look up, wonderingly, into his raging eyes before deciding to pulling myself from the ground and stand before him.

 "You have shamed me and enraged me, Lucifer." The Lord's voice is clipped, yet filled with both sadness and anger. "You deliberately disobeyed orders to conceal your angelic form from humans. You returned to the earthly plane without my consent. You disobeyed me. And, as if to further seal you fate, you have not only tortured and murdered, but you completely obliterated two of my creations from existence! Their souls are gone. Forever. How can I even begin to forgive this, Lucifer? Tell me, have you learned nothing from your actions?"

Standing before the Lord in my ruins, I reflect upon my actions. I replay the blood and the fire and the screams all in my head. And I still feel nothing. There is no remorse rooted in my soul. And in my hollowed out state, I address the Lord as such, "My Lord, both Nathaniel and Cecilia deserved their fate. I hold no remorse for such deception and betrayal. You created a flawed race of Man. I could not suffer such deceit to exist."

"Not all Man are deceitful, just as apparently not all of my angels are inherently good." I look into the Lord's eyes as these words leave his lips, and in them, I find a familiar rage. "I can hardly consider you an angel now, Lucifer, after your actions. You hold no remorse or love in your heart. You are changed. There is a darkness pooling within you."

At the Lord's words, I feel the beginnings of an already too familiar rage creeping under my skin. "You can hardly consider me an angel now?!" I spit the words back in the Lord's face. "This transformation is your fault. You sent me to Earth to learn from creatures you created! Well, I learned, my Lord. Your creation of Man is worthless! They did this to me. And, in turn, you did this to me! At your actions, I can hardly consider you my Lord!"

These words have no sooner left my lips than I feel a surge of power knock me from my feet and across the room. As I lay on the floor, the voice of the Lord, angry and resolute, fills my ears. "If I am no longer your Lord, Lucifer, then you are no longer my angel." I wonder at the Lord's meaning only momentarily before I feel my own wings start to burn. I lay on the floor, writhing and screaming in agony as my wings burn down to nothing but ash, searing the flesh where they were once attached to my back.

When my screams cease, the Lord again addresses me, rage still tinging his words, "You came to me with a request to be cast out, and cast you out I shall. If you wish to sin as the humans do, then you shall live among them. And, until you can learn to love my creations, respect my rule, and feel remorse for your transgressions, you are banned from the Heavenly realm."

At the Lord's final decree, I take a long look into his eyes, seeing the mixed rage and sorrow flowing across his face as he looks upon me. And then, I feel the sinking sensation as I am cast from the realm, gaining momentum as I plummet to the earth.

The Rise:

The fall seems never ending, and yet I do not fight it. Falling is rather easy, actually. However, when I finally make impact with the earth, it is not the earth I expect. And the impact itself is far more than I could have ever prepared myself for.

I've landed in a wasteland of ice and ash, creating a small crater with my impact. I fell much farther than I believe the Lord intended, for I have fallen into the wasteland he spoke of that contained the tainted souls. I'm sure of it. Around me, I watch dark, wraith-like creatures peer into the crater. In the distance, I can hear screams. The air is stagnant and smells of smoke.

When I go to lift myself from the crater, I realize some of my bones have broken on impact. I also realize the wraith-like creatures are assessing my weaknesses and viewing me as prey. As two of the monsters advance, I feel my rage revive and begin pooling beneath my skin. When they are within arms reach, I grab them both, sensing their tainted souls. And I burn them alive from the inside out.

Apparently, the Lord did not make me human. He took my wings, but he couldn't revoke the darkness that resides within. As I kneel within the crater over the ashes I have created, I feel myself becoming stronger. The souls I have destroyed give me strength. Three more wraiths advance, and I destroy them quicker than the first two. The rest of the wraiths keep their distance, lurking at the edges of the crater.

I have pulled enough strength from these creatures to lift myself from the ground. Yet, when fully risen to my feet, the full ramifications of the fall hit me hard as I feel my child's blood pouring from my womb, further staining my tattered robes red and pooling in the ice and ash at my feet. As the rage again engulfs me, my screams echo within the crater and reverberate far into this wasteland. I curse the Lord for every loss he has led me to suffer as the remaining wraiths approach slowly to lap at the aborted blood at my feet...

       __________________________________________________________

And so goes the tale of The Rise of Lucifer! I was one of those wraiths who witnessed her fall, and I was one of those wraiths that she allowed to consume her aborted blood. I am the only wraith she allowed to survive that day as she rose from the crater and proclaimed herself Queen. She made me her guide to this realm, and I have served at his side ever since. She relishes in the pain each tainted soul brings to her realm as they share in her never ending agony. And amidst the suffering and the fury in this damning realm, she is the Lord.

17
7
6
Juice
191 reads
Donate coins to JessicaJohnson.
Juice
Cancel
Challenge of the Week #62: Tell us the story of Lucifer, where Lucifer is female. The most masterfully written piece, as voted and determined by the Prose team, will be crowned winner and receive $100. Quality beats quantity, always, but numbers make things easier for our judges, so share, share, share with friends, family, and connections. #ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
Written by JessicaJohnson
The Rise Of Lucifer
The screams of the tortured and the damned are a constant chorus to her ears. She never flinches at the sound, but rather relishes each aching cry as she sits upon the throne of bones I helped build for her centuries ago. She is my Queen, and I serve her unquestionably. Who am I? I am of no significance, for this story isn't about me. This story is about her. I am about to recount for you a tale that she refers to as "The Rise," a tale she recounted to me herself ages ago. Behold, all who would hear it, the centuries old tale of The Rise of Lucifer!
      ____________________________________________________________

A Night On The Earthly Plane:

"You are absolutely glorious. Beauty incarnate! All the stars in the sky cannot compare to the light that radiates from your eyes." His words are silk to my wanting ears as we lay intertwined, skin on skin, in his bedchamber. I have spent the better part of my four weeks on the earthly plane in human form with this man, and, in these four weeks, he has won my heart. However, he knows not my true angelic form for I have kept it concealed at the instruction of the Lord. I was sent by the Lord, as were many of his angels, to Earth disguised in human form to appreciate and learn from and guide his latest creation: Man. And what a beautiful creation they are! In my arms, I hold a small piece of Heaven. He calls himself Nathaniel. And I have him call me Lucy. 

"I cannot imagine my world without you, my dearest. Must you truly leave on the morrow?" Nathaniel's breath tickles my forehead as his soft words penetrate through my many thoughts, his hand still stroking my carmine colored hair.

"I must, my love." My words sound slightly strained even to my ears. "I was sent here to learn from you and guide you. I must report back to my instructor with all I have accomplished here. But I will return to you. Always. You are my heart."

"And you cannot tell me where you are going, who this instructor is, or when you will return to me?" Nathaniel asks, a desperation in the echoes of his voice.

"You know I cannot. But, when I return to you, my love, I will return with answers." This reply always seems to satisfy Nathaniel's curiosity, if only temporarily. And temporarily is all I need. In the morning, I will go. But, tonight, I am still his.

A Return to Heaven:

"Lucifer!" The voice of the Lord echoes through the vast expanses of the Heavenly realm, calling me to his presence.

"Yes, my Lord." I position myself before him in a humble stance and await his review of all I have witnessed and learned on the earthly plane.

The Lord instructs, "In your time on Earth, you have favored one man over all of my many creations, sharing his home and his bed. Tell me of this man and what you have learned."

"My Lord," I address him, "in my time on the earthly plane, I witnessed many of your magnificent creations, but none of them as truly magnificent as Man. They are resplendent, intelligent beings with an inner core light that we would term a soul. Their inner light is of a dimmer quality than the light residing in us angels, and they are not immortal. But they are very similar to us nonetheless. The man I favored calls himself Nathaniel, and I love him, my Lord. He has opened my heart to a different type of love, a love beyond the type of love I hold for my sibling angels. I long to be his companion in life, my Lord."

"You would have me cast you out, no longer an angel, but a human, to live at his side?" the Lord inquires.

"I would, my Lord. And when my time on Earth was through, my soul would pass from that realm back into your arms. In the end, I will always be your creation, but I wish to spend a lifetime with this human." I pause, briefly, to recollect my thoughts. The Lord, all knowing, already knows of my secret, I am sure. But I wish to voice my miracle for his ears nonetheless. "From my time spent with Nathaniel, we have created a life that is germinating in my womb. A miracle, my Lord. I would build a human life and a family with this man."

"My lovely Lucifer, creating life is always a miracle. But you have much to learn, my angel. And I fear this next lesson shall be a difficult one." The Lord steps closer to my side before continuing. "My creation of Man, as you have witnessed, is similar to my creation of angels. However, they are also different. While all of my angels are inherently good, not all of Man hold these same characteristics and values. A side of Man you did not witness in your brief time on the earthly plane is a darker side of man coated with corruption. Greed. Wrath. Deception. Lust. These are all dark traits some humans possess. What I have never revealed to my angels is that some of my human creations do not return to me when their bodies perish. I have placed an everlasting soul in every human. Yet, some souls become so corrupted and weighted down with dark traits that when the soul is released from the body, it cannot ascend to the Heavens, but rather sinks into a dark, desolate wasteland."

"I do not understand, my Lord." I reply, confused as to the lesson my instructor is laying out before me.

"I know, my Lucifer. But you shall." At this, the Lord moves in front of me and raises one hand to place upon my forehead. "I will show you."

When the Lord's hand contacts with my forehead, my eyes no longer view him standing before me. Instead, I am back on Earth in Nathaniel's bedchamber. Disoriented, I slowly take in my surroundings until my eyes settle on Nathaniel in his bed. Yet, Nathaniel is not alone. At his side is a beautiful raven haired woman. He has his arms wrapped around her, whispering in her ear and holding her as he had held me. I can hear his words, faintly flowing and full of seduction, as he tells her, "You are absolutely beautiful. I cannot imagine my life without you..."

A Return To The Earthly Plane:

I do not understand. I love Nathaniel, and he loves me. Who is this woman? I am his everything. And he is my heart. Yet, I feel as if my heart is cracking. I feel as if my pieces are crumbling. What is this terrible feeling?! And then the Lord removes his hand, pulling me back into my current surroundings before he again speaks.

"My lovely Lucifer, I know you do not understand, but what you have experienced is deceit. You ask me to cast you out to be with a man who does not love you as you love him. And he will not be waiting for you when you return. I cannot do that, my angel. But you and the child you have created are forever welcome here within the Heavenly realm, regardless that he shall be part human. I know this is a difficult lesson to learn, and I shall give you time to process this information. I love you, my angel. Do not view this as a loss, but as a lesson." And with those words, the Lord removes himself from my side, leaving me alone in the vast Heavens to ruminate on these thoughts.

And I still do not understand. Alone and confused, I can fathom nothing. A lesson? How can this be a lesson?! I love Nathaniel. No. I cannot accept it. I will not accept it. I will return to Nathaniel, as promised. I will reveal myself, my true self, to him, and his love for me will be revived. And with these thoughts, and a crumbling heart, I plunge from the Heavens to Earth, appearing in a flash of light within Nathaniel's bedchamber. My landing rattles the walls of the cabin, startling both Nathaniel and the raven haired women from the bed. When they spot me, I watch them clamor to the farthest reaches of the room, clinging to each other in fear.

"Nathaniel, my love!" I address him, "I have returned." I stand before them with my carmine hair cascading around my flowing golden robes, and my wings slightly spread, glistening with their inner light. "Tell me, dearest, who is this woman that shares your bed?"

 I watch as a slow recognition spreads across Nathaniel's face, but I find no love radiating from his expression or his eyes. Rather, I see only fear and repulsion. "Lucy...?" Hearing my name from his lips spoken so questioningly and fearfully only furthers the cracks in my crumbling heart.

"Yes, my love." I take a step closer only to watch both Nathaniel and this woman shrink back farther in fear. "I have returned to you in my true form, with love in my heart and our child in my womb. I know this form is foreign to you, but our creator can change that. The Lord can make me human, and we can be together. But he doubts your love for me." I take another step closer, a slight pleading tone creeping into the edges of my voice. "If you would but prove your love to me by dismissing this woman and inviting me into your life, the Lord could cast me in human form and we could be a family."

"Lucy..." I hear Nathaniel whisper, the fear and repulsion still etched in his face, as his eyes keep moving from my face to my wings. "This cannot be..."

"It is, my love. And it can be." I take another step closer, longing only to touch him.

"No!" Nathaniel shouts, his outburst startling me. "Stay back! This cannot be! We cannot be together for I am to be wed to Cecilia." I watch him gaze upon the raven haired woman with adoration, before turning back to me. "She is my future."

I feel a catch in my throat and a moisture pooling in my eyes before it overflows, spilling over my cheeks. "But I am with your child," I hear myself say. "I love you, Nathaniel."

"I do not love you, Lucy." Nathaniel's words, cold and disgusted, are a dagger through my chest. "How could I love you? You aren't even human. Now, leave us to our life together and return to your own kind. We do not want you here."

The Changing:

My breath keeps catching as the moisture pours relentlessly from my eyes. What are these feelings?! I stare helplessly at Nathaniel and Cecilia, feeling broken and ashamed. My heart feels as if it has shattered. "You don't love me...." I hear myself repeating aloud, as if saying the words will relinquish some of the pain in my chest. In a response to my words and actions, Nathaniel only pulls Cecilia tighter in his arms.

I feel my world crumbling as I stand in Nathaniel's bedchamber. Something deeper and more vital than my own heart is breaking inside me. Yet, from the ruins, I can feel something new arising. A fire begins building in my chest, engulfing the pain, and replacing it with something darker. The moisture spilling from my eyes, tears I finally recognized them as, begin to slow. My entire body begins to shake. "How could he choose her over me?!" I think to myself. "How could her choose her over our child?!" Then a new emotion fills me, yet I can name it easily from my studies. Rage. It engulfs me as I watch Nathaniel and Cecilia cling to each other. And in the following moments, when the dark thoughts become overwhelming, I know my following actions will forever alter my fate.

I can feel the rage pooling in my chest and coursing through my body. It consumes me. I need to let it out. "No. No....no..." The words keep spilling from my lips, getting louder with each repeat. I watch as Nathaniel and Cecilia's fear turns into terror.

"Lucy. Stop this!" Nathaniel shouts, as Cecilia whimpers at his side. But it is too late. I can feel my skin rippling with heat. I am burning on the inside. And as my cries turn into screams that surpass the decibel capacity of the human ear, I watch as both Nathaniel and Cecilia sink to their knees, holding the sides of their heads as blood pours from their ears. Their cries only beckon my cries to increase in volume, and I relish in our shared agony as blood begins to pour from their eyes.

"LUCIFER! STOP THIS NOW!" The voice of the Lord is a loud echo in my mind. But he is also too late. I silence my screams and close the distance between myself and Nathaniel and Cecilia. Placing one hand on each of Nathaniel and Cecilia's heads, I sense their souls. And into their souls, I pour all of my rage. Their screams of pure agony do not phase me. I continue to pour all of my rage until the rippling heat from my skin can be seen behind their bloodied eyes. And I burn them alive, beginning with their souls, from the inside out until they are nothing but a pile of ashes on the floor, erasing them from existence.

Yet, still my rage pours! I cannot stop it. I pour it into everything around me, until the walls are engulfed in flames. And it is here, amidst the raging inferno, that I feel a pull on my wings, and the Lord's voice is again in my head asking, "Lucifer...What have you done??" I am then ripped through the burning roof of the cabin, through the skies, and through the very fabric of the earthly realm before being deposited in a broken heap in Heaven at the Lord's feet.

The Fall:

Crumpled at the Lord's feet, I do not even attempt to rise. I can hear other angels not far from the Lord's side, and I imagine what a horrific sight I must be to them, bloodstained and soot covered on the ground. But it hardly matters. As I lay there in a crumpled heap, I realize that I no longer rage. Yet, I don't feel any remorse or shame for my actions either. I feel no love or affection for those around me. I feel hollowed out. I feel nothing.

"Lucifer. Rise!" the Lord commands. I look up, wonderingly, into his raging eyes before deciding to pulling myself from the ground and stand before him.

 "You have shamed me and enraged me, Lucifer." The Lord's voice is clipped, yet filled with both sadness and anger. "You deliberately disobeyed orders to conceal your angelic form from humans. You returned to the earthly plane without my consent. You disobeyed me. And, as if to further seal you fate, you have not only tortured and murdered, but you completely obliterated two of my creations from existence! Their souls are gone. Forever. How can I even begin to forgive this, Lucifer? Tell me, have you learned nothing from your actions?"

Standing before the Lord in my ruins, I reflect upon my actions. I replay the blood and the fire and the screams all in my head. And I still feel nothing. There is no remorse rooted in my soul. And in my hollowed out state, I address the Lord as such, "My Lord, both Nathaniel and Cecilia deserved their fate. I hold no remorse for such deception and betrayal. You created a flawed race of Man. I could not suffer such deceit to exist."

"Not all Man are deceitful, just as apparently not all of my angels are inherently good." I look into the Lord's eyes as these words leave his lips, and in them, I find a familiar rage. "I can hardly consider you an angel now, Lucifer, after your actions. You hold no remorse or love in your heart. You are changed. There is a darkness pooling within you."

At the Lord's words, I feel the beginnings of an already too familiar rage creeping under my skin. "You can hardly consider me an angel now?!" I spit the words back in the Lord's face. "This transformation is your fault. You sent me to Earth to learn from creatures you created! Well, I learned, my Lord. Your creation of Man is worthless! They did this to me. And, in turn, you did this to me! At your actions, I can hardly consider you my Lord!"

These words have no sooner left my lips than I feel a surge of power knock me from my feet and across the room. As I lay on the floor, the voice of the Lord, angry and resolute, fills my ears. "If I am no longer your Lord, Lucifer, then you are no longer my angel." I wonder at the Lord's meaning only momentarily before I feel my own wings start to burn. I lay on the floor, writhing and screaming in agony as my wings burn down to nothing but ash, searing the flesh where they were once attached to my back.

When my screams cease, the Lord again addresses me, rage still tinging his words, "You came to me with a request to be cast out, and cast you out I shall. If you wish to sin as the humans do, then you shall live among them. And, until you can learn to love my creations, respect my rule, and feel remorse for your transgressions, you are banned from the Heavenly realm."

At the Lord's final decree, I take a long look into his eyes, seeing the mixed rage and sorrow flowing across his face as he looks upon me. And then, I feel the sinking sensation as I am cast from the realm, gaining momentum as I plummet to the earth.

The Rise:

The fall seems never ending, and yet I do not fight it. Falling is rather easy, actually. However, when I finally make impact with the earth, it is not the earth I expect. And the impact itself is far more than I could have ever prepared myself for.

I've landed in a wasteland of ice and ash, creating a small crater with my impact. I fell much farther than I believe the Lord intended, for I have fallen into the wasteland he spoke of that contained the tainted souls. I'm sure of it. Around me, I watch dark, wraith-like creatures peer into the crater. In the distance, I can hear screams. The air is stagnant and smells of smoke.

When I go to lift myself from the crater, I realize some of my bones have broken on impact. I also realize the wraith-like creatures are assessing my weaknesses and viewing me as prey. As two of the monsters advance, I feel my rage revive and begin pooling beneath my skin. When they are within arms reach, I grab them both, sensing their tainted souls. And I burn them alive from the inside out.

Apparently, the Lord did not make me human. He took my wings, but he couldn't revoke the darkness that resides within. As I kneel within the crater over the ashes I have created, I feel myself becoming stronger. The souls I have destroyed give me strength. Three more wraiths advance, and I destroy them quicker than the first two. The rest of the wraiths keep their distance, lurking at the edges of the crater.

I have pulled enough strength from these creatures to lift myself from the ground. Yet, when fully risen to my feet, the full ramifications of the fall hit me hard as I feel my child's blood pouring from my womb, further staining my tattered robes red and pooling in the ice and ash at my feet. As the rage again engulfs me, my screams echo within the crater and reverberate far into this wasteland. I curse the Lord for every loss he has led me to suffer as the remaining wraiths approach slowly to lap at the aborted blood at my feet...
       __________________________________________________________

And so goes the tale of The Rise of Lucifer! I was one of those wraiths who witnessed her fall, and I was one of those wraiths that she allowed to consume her aborted blood. I am the only wraith she allowed to survive that day as she rose from the crater and proclaimed herself Queen. She made me her guide to this realm, and I have served at his side ever since. She relishes in the pain each tainted soul brings to her realm as they share in her never ending agony. And amidst the suffering and the fury in this damning realm, she is the Lord.
#fiction  #prosechallenge  #Itslit  #getlit  #100thpost 
17
7
6
Juice
191 reads
Load 6 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Famewriter.
Juice
Cancel
Tell me a story: About someone who is trying to get the courage to tell someone they can't remember their name.
Written by Famewriter

IT WASN'T JUST ME!

I was walking through the store and stopped short. 

      "What's the matter?" My friend asked. I pointed down the aisle and she nods. "I'm going to let you handle this one." She goes into a different aisle and the smiles and gives me a thumbs-up. I smile and then sigh. Why do I always get stuck with this stuff? 

     "Hey," I say as the person down the aisle waves. She walks toward me and I rack my brain for her name. Starts with an A I think to myself. 

     "Hey, how's it going?" She says. 

     "Good, how 'bout you?" I rack my brain again why she talks. 

     "I'm good. I just came to the store to get the milk and stuff," She says. "I have a really big exam tomorrow and I'm really nervous about it."  

     "Is it in English?" I asked. 

     "No, math," She says. I nod. 

     "Well, I'll see you tomorrow," She says. "Have a good day." 

     "I will you too," I smile. 

      "Why can't I remember his name?" I hear her say as she walks away. 

     "Oh!" I say. I smack my forehead. "That was her name. Chloe!" 

2
1
0
Juice
13 reads
Donate coins to Famewriter.
Juice
Cancel
Tell me a story: About someone who is trying to get the courage to tell someone they can't remember their name.
Written by Famewriter
IT WASN'T JUST ME!
I was walking through the store and stopped short. 
      "What's the matter?" My friend asked. I pointed down the aisle and she nods. "I'm going to let you handle this one." She goes into a different aisle and the smiles and gives me a thumbs-up. I smile and then sigh. Why do I always get stuck with this stuff? 
     "Hey," I say as the person down the aisle waves. She walks toward me and I rack my brain for her name. Starts with an A I think to myself. 
     "Hey, how's it going?" She says. 
     "Good, how 'bout you?" I rack my brain again why she talks. 
     "I'm good. I just came to the store to get the milk and stuff," She says. "I have a really big exam tomorrow and I'm really nervous about it."  
     "Is it in English?" I asked. 
     "No, math," She says. I nod. 
     "Well, I'll see you tomorrow," She says. "Have a good day." 

     "I will you too," I smile. 
      "Why can't I remember his name?" I hear her say as she walks away. 
     "Oh!" I say. I smack my forehead. "That was her name. Chloe!" 

#fiction  #adventure  #funny  #Itslit  #getlit 
2
1
0
Juice
13 reads
Login to post comments.